


Improvisation

by blu_dreaming_skies



Series: Orpheus Lives On [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Gen, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot Lives, philza intervenes a bit more on november 16th, philza is not tommy or technoblade's dad, philza is wilbur's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 20:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30145350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blu_dreaming_skies/pseuds/blu_dreaming_skies
Summary: Someone else has blown up L'Manburg. Wilbur is no longer this symphony's conductor.He lives, and Phil wants it to stay that way. He also wants to minimize the damage to his son's country and his people.It is both much easier and infinitely harder than he expected.
Relationships: Technoblade & Philza, Wilbur Soot & Philza, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Orpheus Lives On [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145678
Kudos: 36





	Improvisation

Wil is trembling in his arms, eyes wide and glassy. He's covered in filth and blood and suffering, yet here he is, so wonderfully alive.

Gods, Phil was so scared he'd never be able to hold his son again.

"Wil... we, heh, we should probably get out of here," He says softly- not wanting to let go, but knowing full well the chaos still waging in the ruins of L'Manburg. Phil runs his fingers through Wilbur's hair again. So close. He was so damn close to losing him. He swallows stiffly as his hands shake.

Wilbur doesn't respond for a minute, gone silent. There are people shouting from outside the cave. Phil couldn't care less at the moment. His son blinks. He laughs, a hollow and horribly  _ wrong _ sound.

"...I guess Dream got impatient." Wil's smile twitches like it wants to twist into a scowl but he can't find the energy. He presses against Phil's chest and Phil loosens his hold, just a bit, just enough to give Wil some room to breathe, to take a good look at him.

To be honest, he looks like death warmed over. As if he didn't exactly get the memo about surviving and isn't at all tempted by the idea.

Wilbur coughs, hacking and dry from the thick smoke. Gunpowder's clogging up both their lungs. Phil tries to ignore the way his own breath comes as a wheeze. "Since Dream's so keen on meddling with other's plots today, I wouldn't be surprised if he's borrowed some of Techno's Withers..." 

Philza's blood runs cold.

"What? What do you mean by that?" He presses, ignoring the wobble and hitch in his voice. Wilbur takes advantage of his surprise by slipping out of his grip entirely.

Wil laughs again as he fiddles with his coat. "Oh, I think you already know, Phil. In the long run the details won't matter- today L'Manburg falls. This is the dawn of the end of civilization." He says it in that floaty, honeyed way he does when he knows he's won. Phil remembers it from board games they'd play when he was younger. It's a slight understatement to say the tone's become more sinister now.

A thousand scenarios run through Phil's head as he glances from his son to the crowd gathered beneath them, to his old friend in the distance quietly separating from the group and rummaging through his enderchest. 

"We don't have time for this!"

Wilbur just shakes his head, still smiling. "There's no need to hurry. You can't stop it. I can't stop it." He raises his hands and shrugs. "It's clear as day now. Even if you had _somehow_ managed to talk me down, it wouldn't have made any difference."

He almost sounds regretful, but that may just be wishful thinking on Phil's part.

Phil wants to stretch the moment, to reason with him, maybe sit with him and watch the sunset. Wants Wilbur to tell him how to fix everything. But he spies Techno sculpting soul sand out of the corner of his eyes. Spies Techno threatening the crowd with a rocket launcher in one hand and a wither skull in the other.

He and Wil can watch the sunset tomorrow. It'll still be there (as will Wilbur's questionable state of mind.)

"Later, mate, we need to go!"

Phil grabs his son's hand and drags him off the side of the cliff. His destroyed wings don't provide much other than a little slower fall. They splash into the base of a waterfall, one of the two spilling farther than ever after the explosion reshaped the landscape. He expects some resistance as he pulls Wilbur along to a hillside on the right overlooking the conflict;  _ something  _ more than this eerie silence.

Phil grips the fence with white knuckles, wincing as Technoblade places another wither skull. Only one more needed on each of the structures next to him, only that and two beasts of mass destruction would ravage the survivors and possibly obliterate this entire chunk of the world.

Phil would be lying if he said he cared in particular about the buildings of L'Manburg. Even most of the citizens were strangers to him. But... he turns his head to Wilbur. Standing there, giving off an air of vague amusement but failing to hide the weakness in his shoulders or the tremble in his hands. "Wil, I-"

"It wasn't supposed to go like this." He says, almost nonchalant. Almost grieving. "Ha, I really... I really don't know anymore." Wilbur glances down at the soldiers of Pogtopia, beaten and bloody, choking on the air thick with magic and ash, but still standing. "How many do you think are going to die?"

Philza swallows. He steels himself. "Nobody. Nobody dies today." 

Wilbur's face goes tight and Phil can't tell what he's thinking. His eyes widen for just a second before he turns away, maybe from disbelief, maybe from hope. He wonders if Wilbur trusts him. Then again if Wil trusted him, they wouldn't be in this situation.

Phil may never understand his son, may never be able to earn that trust, but he knows one thing. This nation and its people matter to him. So he takes a deep breath and jumps the fence, racing towards Technoblade.

"Don't do this, Techno!"

The crackling glow of the summoning ritual lighting his features in all the wrong ways, blood-soaked and snarling, Technoblade faces him. All Phil's done is echo the chants of the crowd. The closest to them- Tommy, he thinks, remembering how often Wilbur wrote of him, the rare pictures he'd send, glares between them. He stands his ground. He looks like he's about to collapse.

Technoblade makes a low noise in the back of his throat. "Phil... I'm in the middle of a speech here."

Tommy bares his teeth like he wants to spit back something in reply, but Phil steps in front, raising a hand to dissuade him. He gives Techno his best disapproving stare. It's gotta work this time, right? ...He's never been the best at negotiations.

Dream's mercenaries waiting nearby watch the encounter, dispassionate like wraiths, simply drifting until it's time to reap the souls of the dead.

His friend's eye twitches as he gestures with the wither skull. "You wanna let them get away with this?! Building another government?" This might be the angriest Techno's ever been at him. Phil tries not to dwell on it. "They're just going to repeat history! Look what they did to Wilbur! It has to end here-" 

Phil feels his broken wings tense and unfurl as anger flames in his chest. "Haven't you done enough?!" Wilbur's people are standing in the crater of the country they loved, tripping over their own corpses, stumbling around half-alive and staring on with bloodshot eyes. He doesn't know if they can come back from this massacre. He sure as hell doesn't know if they could come back from two  _ withers _ .

And he doesn't think he likes the way Techno's voice quivers a bit at Wilbur's name. As if he knows something Phil doesn't. Techno, who's been here to see his son fall apart and burn from the inside out while Phil was on the other side of the world. Techno, who stares on with a pained confusion and crushes a well-worn weapon in his iron grip, unsteady.

"Haven't we all been through enough? ...At least for today?" He watches Technoblade's brutal expression crack, watches him look across the devastated area, the land now all jagged edges and blackened scars. The people appearing in about the same condition, a bitter reflection of their once-home. Phil watches that expression crumble and reform into a stony mask.

He lowers his arm and replaces the wither skull in his inventory, the item disappearing in a gleam of white light. "Yeah," he says, in a quiet and rough voice. "Yeah, I'm a little tired."

Philza lets out a soft sigh. His wings flutter and fold back up (not that there's much left to fold). He chuckles. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Looking back at Tommy, he sees the boy (who should by all accounts be praising the gods at this occurrence), positively  _ fuming _ .

"You're fuckin' ' _ tired _ ' now, are you..." He seethes through gritted teeth. Techno narrows his eyes. Phil clears his throat.

"We're all tired aren't we? It hasn't been a very fun day." Ever the master of understatements, Philza. He offers the two a thin smile, then gently takes Technoblade by the arm. "We'll be leaving now." 

Tommy scowls and Techno locks eyes with him again. The exchange is quick but the malice in their glares is lethal.

"See you around, Theseus," Technoblade mutters, spoken into the air like an omen.

Approaching footsteps muddle the moment- Philza expects one of the other soldiers but his breath catches at the sight of his son. He's surprised Wilbur hasn't left already. Or tried to do something stupid again.

"Looks like I missed the party." He glances around at the wreckage, the wither structures, then stops at Tommy. Tommy, who only blinks up at him, any aggression dissolved in an instant like a blown out candle.

The boy takes a shaky breath. "...Wilbur?"

Wilbur's lip twitches downward. He doesn't answer.

Phil puts a hand on his shoulder. Not a demand or a plea, just a hesitant question.

What does he want now that he's alive and his country is dead?

Wilbur says nothing, and begins to walk away. Techno follows soon after him, glancing back at Philza, who nods.

Tommy steps forward and the flame rekindles tenfold. "You're just going to  _ leave _ , dickhead?! Turn your back on me like you turned your back on L'Manburg?" 

The boy's heart beats so loud Phil can hear it, thudding away in his ribcage like it wants to break out and beat somebody to death. It takes after its owner well.

Again, Wilbur says nothing. That cold silence is back, just as unsettling as before.

Philza himself can't really muster anything to say. He doesn't know Tommy that well; can't imagine anything that might even begin to plaster over this deep of a wound.

"Sorry, mate," He mumbles.

Tommy's chin quivers, he bites back tears as he looks over the three of them. His mouth tries and fails to form the shape of words for a few moments before settling on, "Go fuck yourselves. You... none of you are the men I thought you were."

Philza winces, a little in sympathy for the kid, a little offended on his own behalf. He has no idea what stories Wilbur fed to Tommy about him, no clue what the boy expected of him. Whatever it was, surely he'd done at least a  _ decent _ job, talking Techno down and all...

"Well then," The sound of Wilbur's voice makes Phil jump. "Congratulations on being wrong."

Philza's heard of the whole 'seeing the instant a person's heart shatters in real time', but in all his years he's never actually witnessed it. Not that it had been on his bucket list or anything. Now he knows for a fact he never wants to see it again.

Tommy says nothing.

After Phil turns at last to leave with his son and his old friend, he doesn't check to see if Tommy watches them go.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is another part of this series! I have a couple more ideas for this AU. Feel free to comment with any ideas of your own that you'd like to see.


End file.
